Now and Then Read online

  An epic, mind-blowing fuck took place here today!

  A smiley face and a hand-drawn arrow narrowed down precisely where it had happened. Cole looked pissed and a little hurt when his gray eyes found Emma’s.

  “Oh, shit,” she said, her face burning. “That isn’t my note, Cole.”

  “Really? Other people fuck on your couch?” he clipped, suspicious.

  “Not usually, no. But Layla has a key.”

  Some of the anger drained from his face.

  “Are you seeing anyone else?” he asked, still sounding put off.

  “Anyone else? Other than … who? I told you it’s not my note, Cole.” Emma met his eyes.

  “I know it’s not your note. But I just mean in general, are you seeing anyone else?”

  “You mean besides you? I didn’t know I was seeing you,” she said defensively. She instantly regretted it when his jaw tightened in anger.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll take a rain check on the wine.”

  Chapter 9

  As he wound his way out of the constant stop-and-go traffic of the city, Cole’s mind was focused on the case he was buried in at work. The patent infringement suit required a lot of technical research. He was in his element, immersing himself in work, doing whatever it took to win.

  But the past couple days his mind had wandered from the case to Emma, as it did while he drove toward her parents’ house. He knew the dinner invitation was likely a ruse by Eliza Carson, and maybe his own mother, too, to get him and Layla together. He wanted to refuse it, but he couldn’t, knowing Emma might be there.

  He regretted getting so angry Friday night. It wasn’t the note, but their conversation, that he was still pissed over. Cole was used to women falling into his arms, but Emma didn’t, and it frustrated him like nothing else. He’d let the frustration turn into anger when not only had she not said she wasn’t seeing anyone else, she’d said she wasn’t even seeing him. What the hell was it, then? They went out, had kissed and – he’d hoped – were on the verge of finally sleeping together. If that wasn’t seeing each other, what was it?

  His anger had grown stronger when Jen the paralegal had texted him Saturday night asking if he wanted to hook up. He’d thought about it, but told her no. Instead he’d gone out for a few beers with some friends and spent the entire night thinking about Emma.

  Between his anger and sexual frustration, he was wound tight. But he also felt a tug of remorse that he hadn’t handled things better Friday night. The evening had been perfect until he’d gotten pissed and left. He’d wondered over and over what would have happened if he had instead, in a less heated tone, told Emma he wanted to see her and only her.

  The thought unnerved him, but it was true. He sure as hell didn’t want her seeing anyone else, and he couldn’t play it cool anymore. Emma didn’t realize the effect she had on men. He’d noticed it at dinner with the partners and at the art gallery. It wasn’t her clothes or the way she acted, but just the look of her that men were intrigued by. Every time she laughed or tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder, she drew male attention.

  Not the least of which was his. He didn’t want a relationship, but there was no denying Emma had a powerful hold on him. When he glanced down at his speedometer, he shook his head with disgust at how fast he’d been driving because of his eagerness to see her.

  He sighed, wishing he could occupy his mind with work, but it was no use. As he turned onto the tree-lined street that his and Emma’s parents lived on, he realized he’d be deeply disappointed if Emma wasn’t there.

  When he approached the back door and heard her laughter in the kitchen, his relief was palpable. Her eyes met his when he walked in, and he had to force himself not to race over and sweep her into his arms. She looked away sadly, and he wanted nothing more than to put a smile back on her beautiful face.

  “Cole,” his mother said, kissing his cheek warmly. “I’m glad you made it. You work so late on weeknights that I was sure you wouldn’t be able to.”

  “What are you working on?” Layla chimed in. She was still dressed in a suit, her hair pulled into a neat bun, and Cole wanted to push past her and head straight for Emma. Nothing but her warm, sensual scent and loose, wild waves of hair appealed to him at the moment.

  “Uh … patent infringement case. We represent an engineering firm.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Layla said.

  “Not really. I’m a junior attorney, so I mostly just do research.”

  “Dinner’s ready, come on in!” Eliza Carson called.

  Cole’s mouth watered at the spread she’d prepared. Grilled steak and shrimp, baked potatoes, a cheesy casserole and assorted other side dishes awaited.

  “Mom, this looks so good, I’m starving!” Emma said, grinning.

  “It does look good. Thanks, Mrs. Carson,” he said. She waved him off, but he saw her smile.

  Emma sat on the other side of the large dining table, avoiding his eyes. It was very different from dinner Friday night, when he had traced his fingers slowly up the warm, delicate skin of her inner thigh, enjoying her soft inhales as he climbed higher.

  “Layla, is your office close to Cole’s?” Eliza Carson asked.

  “A couple miles, I think,” Layla said. “I’ve been there a couple times.”

  The two mothers kept trying to steer the conversation to how much Cole and Layla had in common, but he either deflected or ignored it. He wouldn’t let anyone think he was interested in Layla, even if he came off rude.

  Eventually, they retreated, and the conversation flowed to other topics as Eliza served the blackberry pie she’d made for dessert.

  “So, Emma, how’s work?” her father asked.

  “It’s good. Just the usual. I’m working on a web design project.”

  “No pie, Mom,” Layla said, returning the plate she’d been handed. “I missed spin class this morning.”

  “How about you, Emma?” Eliza asked.

  “Of course. With ice cream if you have it.”

  “So, do you have a boyfriend, Emma?” Cole’s mother asked.

  “Me?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Um, no.”

  Cole’s stomach clenched with anger at her quick response. Her attention was focused entirely on the pie, and he knew she was avoiding looking at him.

  “That’s too bad,” Jenny Marlowe said.

  “Em, what about Brian? You’re seeing him,” Layla said. Cole’s nostrils flared unconsciously and he clenched a fist under the table.

  “Oh, no, that’s nothing,” Emma said, her face darkening.

  “You’ve seen him several times. I think he really likes you,” Layla said.

  So that’s why she was so weird the other night, Cole thought. She’s seeing someone else.

  He wanted to demand Emma come outside and talk to him alone. Though he had no right to be pissed, he was. He was good at reading people, and he hadn’t thought she was seeing anyone else. How was it even possible? He hadn’t been able to even think about another woman since Emma knocked him over at the coffee shop. Obviously his strong feelings were one-sided.

  “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Carson,” he said, rising. “I have to head home, I have a lot of reading to do for a hearing tomorrow.”

  “It was great to see you, honey,” she said, reaching toward him for a quick hug. “We should do this more often.”

  Cole smiled, his eyes meeting Emma’s across the room. They didn’t look remorseful, like he’d expected, but just as sensual and full of longing as usual. He pushed his desire down. Emma might not think he was good enough for her, but plenty of other women did.

  *****

  Emma made her “deep in concentration” face at the large computer monitor on Brian’s desk. Eyes narrowed, face scrunched, end of pen in mouth: it was how she focused best.

  “It’s the drop shadow,” she said. “Lose the drop shadow.”

  Brian clicked his mouse and they both stared at the screen for a second.

  “Better,”
he said, eyeing the brochure cover he had designed.

  “It is. I really like it.”

  “I’m meeting Julie and Caroline for lunch at the deli a block over, you want to come?”

  “I don’t want to intrude on your family lunch,” Emma said uncertainly. Brian waved his hand and gave her a look.

  “Julie feels like she knows you already. I tell her about our conversations. And you’ve been wanting to see Caroline. Come on, Emma, you need a break from that computer screen.”

  “I do,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I’ll walk over with you and say hi to them and get some carryout. I’d like to go to the park and draw over lunch.”

  She stuck her supplies in her bag and they made their way out of the office. When they stepped into the mild day, Emma realized summer was almost over. She loved winter in Chicago, from the bitter weather to the festive Christmas decorations.

  “Damn, it’s almost cold out here,” Brian said, rubbing his arms. “You really look bummed, Emma. Are you still down over Cole?”

  She shrugged as they moved with the crowd on the downtown sidewalk.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. “The whole thing was just--”

  “Emma!”

  She turned to scan the faces behind her, seeing Layla jogging toward her swiftly in sky-high heels.

  “Hey!” her sister said. “Are you on lunch?”

  “Yeah,” Emma said, sighing as she realized her plans to draw alone were about to be changed.

  “Hi,” Layla said, extending her hand to Brian. “I’m Emma’s sister, Layla.”

  “Good to meet you. I’m Brian. We work together.”

  “Brian!” Layla smiled. “We meet at last. Emma talks about you all the time.”

  Emma cringed as Brian looked at her, confused. She felt a sickening twist in her stomach as Layla’s eyes narrowed when she looked up from Brian’s hand after shaking it.

  “Why do you have on a wedding ring?” she asked in a cold, no-nonsense tone. “Are you married?”

  “Yeah,” Brian said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

  “Layla, it’s not what you think,” Emma said.

  “You bastard!” Layla cried, rounding on Brian in a split second. “You worthless prick! My sister deserves better than some asshole who cheats on his wife! Emma, what are you thinking?”

  They both stared at her in astonishment, and Emma felt panic rising in her chest.

  “Um … Brian, you go ahead. I need to stay and talk to Layla,” she said.

  “You better stay away from my sister!” Layla called as he stepped away, his face still frozen in shock. “I’ll tell your wife myself if you don’t, asshole!”

  “Layla, stop,” Emma said, resting her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “What is it, then?” Layla demanded, her eyes flashing angrily.

  “It’s … complicated,” Emma said. “I’m so down right now, and so lost.”

  “Oh, Em.” Layla embraced her tightly. “It’s gonna be okay. Let’s go eat something covered in cheese for lunch. We won’t talk about him.”

  “Okay,” Emma agreed. Even though they walked in silence for a few minutes, Layla’s solid, reassuring presence was a comfort. She was Emma’s best friend. Maybe this would be a good time to confess everything. Layla’s guilt over being the author of the “epic fuck” note and Emma's sadness might be enough to make her not go totally ballistic.

  “Layla, how often do you think people mistake sexual attraction for love?” Emma asked, lacing her arm into her sister’s.

  “All the time. I’ve done it. Sex creates powerful emotions sometimes.”

  “I’m genuinely happy alone,” Emma said, as much to herself as to Layla. “I don’t need a man in my life. I guess there are some things about it that are nice, but I’m not one of those women who needs a man to validate me.”

  “The only upsides to relationships are always having someone to hang out with and always having someone to have sex with,” Layla said. “You’ve got me, and you need a great vibrator. I have several.”

  “Eww. I’m not taking a used vibrator, Layla.”

  “I’m not offering one! They’re like dear old friends to me. We’ve been through a lot together. You’ll have to get your own.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” Emma asked.

  “I don’t think so. I’m not sure I ever will be, either. I’ll choose a husband based on the criteria from the list: attractive, with a great career, level-headed and fun. And obviously, we have to have great sex.”

  “Like you and Chad?” Emma asked with a small smile.

  “God willing. That man is gifted in bed.”

  “Or on couch,” Emma pointed out.

  “Right. But he’s not very deep. Intelligence-wise, I mean. Sex-wise, he is deep. Like, sore the next day deep.”

  “We should hang out this weekend,” Emma said.

  “Friday night. We need to get you cheered up. You’re young and hot, Emma. The world is your oyster, as Dad would say.”

  Emma sighed, knowing that what would really cheer her up was to hear from Cole.

  *****

  The melodic, haunting voice of Eva Cassidy filled Emma’s apartment as she worked on a painting with Vincent curled up at her feet. It wasn’t her usual -- an abstract -- but a landscape, and it was just starting to come together after many hours of work.

  Painting abstracts helped channel her emotions, but she’d done plenty of that lately. She needed to remind herself what discipline could do – how it helped her focus on something outside her feelings. Painting landscapes did that for her. They required her total concentration.

  She was considering giving this one, of an open field in the fall, to her parents for Christmas. They needed something new above their mantel, and it would look perfect.

  “Is this orange too orange-ey, Vinny?” she asked her sleeping cat. “I think so, too. I’m remixing it.”

  She was spending Thursday night at home, getting in plenty of down time before her night out with Layla Friday. She didn’t really feel like going out, but she needed to find a way out of her funk. She’d been missing Cole, and seeing him at her parents’ house the other night hadn’t helped. Until he arrived, she hadn’t even known he was coming.

  When their eyes met across the kitchen that night, Emma’s body had gone into overdrive. Her heart sped up instantly and her skin heated with a flush only that blue-gray stare could cause.

  She’d wanted to call him so many times since their Friday night argument, and tell him that if he wanted to see her, she was in. But a nagging voice inside her head stopped her every time. This wasn’t her anymore, desperate for Cole Marlowe to give her the time of day. He had slept with her sister, and Emma was bothered by the thought of sharing that with Layla. Bothered by the concept anyway, but every time his hands and mouth were on her, she doubted whether she’d actually be able to resist him.

  If she allowed herself to dip her toe into the water with Cole, she knew she would find herself struggling for air soon after. His effect on her had been the same for 12 years; her panties practically fell to the ground when he walked in the room. It was a setup for a huge heartbreak, and she didn’t want to bring that on herself. Not now, when she’d finally come into her own.

  She crossed the floor of the open apartment and eyed the bottle of wine on the counter for just a second before uncorking it. Layla had sent over a basket of wine, chocolates, bubble bath and a vibrator – in new packaging. Emma had laughed at the blush of the man who’d delivered it.

  Layla had sharp edges, but no one meant more to Emma. When she was down, her sister was always there to pick her up.

  “Wine, Vincent?” she called across the room. “No? More for me.”

  She was heading back across the room to mix paint when a rap on her door made her jump. It was past nine, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. She tiptoed to the doorway and peeked through the tiny hole, her heart racing at the sight of C
ole.

  She backed away, her hand flying over her mouth. When she took in the paint-stained smock she wore over gray sweats and an old t-shirt, she shook her head with disgust.

  Just don’t open the door … I have to open the door, sex on legs is in my hallway. Fuck!

  She ripped the smock off, hanging it on a peg behind the door, and pulled her hair loose from the ponytail it was in. Only a slight improvement, but there wasn’t enough time for anything else.

  When she opened the door, she forced her mouth to remain closed as she looked at him. Light gray wool suit, pale blue dress shirt that picked up his eyes perfectly, and a striped tie loosened at his neck. His hair had the messy end-of-the-day look she loved, brought on by him running his hand through it at work.

  She stepped back, allowing him inside, and he reached for the wine glass in her hand, his eyes locked on hers as he sat it on a console table. When he kicked the front door closed, the slam sent a shot of hot desire between her thighs.

  His eyes were dark and hungry, and Emma felt a wave of disbelief mixed with heady lust that he was looking at her. He locked an arm around her waist, cushioning the blow as he forced her against the wall. She gave a cry of surprise, wrapping a leg around his waist at the same time so he knew she wasn’t put off by the force.

  This time his kiss was different. Only the peppermint and coffee taste told her this was Cole. He was demanding, consuming her as he kissed her deeply, one hand wound into her hair and the other making its way from behind her to her breast, which he squeezed with enough pressure to make Emma moan beneath him.

  “I can’t fucking stay away from you,” he breathed into her mouth. “You’re all I think about, Em. By the time I get through with you, you won’t want to see anyone else.”

  He ground his hips against hers, and Emma threw her head back, at a loss for words.

  “Ah …” She panted, unable to think of anything but the feel of him, hard and eager to please her. “Cole … God, Cole. I’m not seeing anyone but you. Layla knew I was seeing someone, so I told her it was someone from work.”

  He pressed his face into her neck, his body relaxing as he sighed.